


The Bottom Of The Deep Blue Sea

by IKnowWhoYouAre_Damianos



Series: Time In A Bottle [2]
Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Cancer, I'm Sorry, M/M, Major Illness, Otherwise They Wouldn't Be Foxes, POV Andrew Minyard, Post-Canon, Reference to Up!, Sad Ending, Suicide, There's no Happy End, sometimes love isn't enough
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-10-02 08:16:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17260760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IKnowWhoYouAre_Damianos/pseuds/IKnowWhoYouAre_Damianos
Summary: Nora said: Imagine a single candle in a dark room going out. That's how Andrew would have felt if Neil had died. Well, Neil did.





	The Bottom Of The Deep Blue Sea

**Author's Note:**

> After all the smut and fluff of the last days, this is the saddest thing I've ever written. Forgive me, I broke my heart. Leave me a comment or kudos. 
> 
> HMU on tumblr: iknowwhoyouaredamianos
> 
> I was writing this and this song started in the radio, I mean?! Time in a bottle - Jim Croce. The title is inspired by The Bottom Of The Deep Blue Sea - Missio. I recommend listening to both songs.
> 
> WARNING: If you feel suicidal, please seek professional help or call one of the many Suicide Prevention Hotlines in your country!

“I’m sorry, Andrew, I know how much he meant to you,” Nicky said, his voice glutted with sadness and compassion as Andrew stood in front of the grave he’d excavated just a few minutes ago, King Fluffkins now being six feet under next to Sir Fat Cat McCatterson in the backyard of their - his - house. He’d long given up referring to it as a home. 

“Shall I stay?” Nicky eventually asked after what felt like an eternity of silence. Andrew just shook his head, his jaw and fists clenched at the realization that their last connection had followed his all. Nicky just nodded, obviously pushing away the urge to hug Andrew. “Okay, but call us, Drew. We’re here for you, you know that.” Another nod, nothing more. No sound had escaped his throat since he’d called Nicky in the morning, informing him that the vet had made the decision to let King go. 

Andrew quickly showed Nicky the door before he went into the empty living room, the void of it utterly consuming him. He knew that Neil would have sought his touch in that situation and Andrew had let him, sharing the silent comfort that always had been enough to talk the other down, but Neil wasn’t next to him anymore. 

The last rays of sun flooded the living room with gold and purple, hitting his skin and yet ceasing to warm him. He ambled towards the mantle, his fingers brushing over an urn, the golden band still on his ring finger, followed by the glass of the frame that held a picture of Neil and him, both in charcoal tuxedos, Neil’s face deformed by the smile on his lips, hardly pressed against Andrew’s. Matt had secretly taken it as Neil had led Andrew into the backyard after the wedding ceremony to get the kiss he knew he could only get without hundreds of eyes on them.  

Three years ago, when he’d come back into their house for the first time, he knew that the void that had overwhelmed him when the machine had fallen into an endless shrieking beep would never be filled again. The candle had gone out, all matches wetted. He’d promised Neil to go on, to watch the cats, to see the places he couldn’t have seen anymore but had wanted to see with Andrew so badly and Andrew hated him for that because Neil had known that Andrew was a man who never broke a promise, especially not one he’d given Neil. Tonight, he’d lived up to the last promise he’d given.

~~~~~~

The streets were empty when he hit the road in the early morning. With a long drive ahead, he settled into the driver’s seat, a big cup of coffee and the remains of an emptied body in tow. Every mile reminded him of one of the endless trips he’d made throughout his life, first to see Neil as often as he had been able to manage when he’d graduated, then with Neil together to hike in the woods or watch sunsets from the roofs of hotels in several cities, always trying to kiss this stupid smile off his face and always failing badly.

When he finally reached Big Sur, the sun started to set into the ocean. Neil had hated California until Andrew had shown him Big Sur and replaced the bad memories with much more beautiful ones and when they had left, Neil had loved this place by the cliffs. 

Andrew killed the engine when he found a nice spot by one of the cliffs, took the urn from the passenger seat and emptied the trunk where he’d stowed away a cooling box with ice cream, a bottle of whiskey and the picture album he had found one morning a few weeks after the funeral when Nicky had convinced him to look at some old pictures of their time at Palmetto.

The hood of the Maserati was warm when he shimmied up and sat down, pouring himself a glass of whiskey. He lit two cigarettes - one he smoked and one that just sat next to him, the thin line of smoke cutting through the air as the fire ate its way to the butt like the fucking cancer had eaten its way through Neil’s body. Nausea overcame him, his guts turning at the thought of the slender sweated body gasping for air.

He quickly flipped the album in his lap open, looking at a group picture of the Foxes at their party after they’d won against the Ravens. It had been the start of a nothing that over the years had turned into something, had turned into everything - an everything that wasn’t meant to last right from the start. Andrew had known better and yet he’d given his heart away once more to this redheaded idiot Neil Josten, to too blue eyes and too gorgeous freckles on a too gorgeous face, to this pipe dream that hadn’t stopped smiling at him even when there had been nothing left to laugh about. 

He had hated him because Neil had made him feel, had made him love, had made him vulnerable to this loss neither of them had been prepared for. 

Pictures of the Foxes were followed by pictures of them at Eden’s, of Neil with two furballs in his arms, of their mingled silhouettes smoking on the roof, of Neil with Matt’s first child in his arms, beaming like the sun. He looked at pictures of them playing Court and winning Olympic gold, both their hands on their necks. He could still see the shimmer in that blue eyes that had been like an ocean, pulling Andrew in more than once, eliciting three words more often than he’d ever imagined. 

One picture showed Andrew with a key in his hand, an ice-cream tub keychain attached to it. Neil had called him a few months after their retirement when he had finished one of his morning runs and set him on the wrong track when he had said that he’d be eating lunch with him. When Andrew had arrived at the address Neil had sent him, he’d found a fully fitted ice cream parlor, an ice cream eating fox flaunting from the shop window. 

He’d only lost tears three times in all those years - when Neil had been walked down the aisle by Wymack, when he’d gotten the keys to this shop and when Neil’s lungs had exhaled his last breath.

When Neil had gotten the diagnosis - lymphoma - Aaron had raised their hopes quickly.  _ It’s manageable _ , he’d said, losing himself in stats and figures. After the first chem sessions, Neil had lost his auburn curls but also the tumor in his bone marrow. It had seemed like Aaron had been right about it. But Andrew and Neil hadn’t been Foxes if they’d always gotten what they’d wished for. The lymphoma had been back a few months later and with it pulmonary metastases. Seven months. It had taken seven months to turn an Olympic medal winner body into a starved corpse in a coffin and to break another one apart. 

The last page held the same picture as the frame on the mantle in their house. Next to it, in Neil’s typical handwriting, stood this dumb sentence he’d said to him twice - before Baltimore and when he passed.  _ Thank you, you were amazing. _

He shut the album and slid down the hood, the pack of cigarettes empty, the bottle as well and the ice-cream in the tub long melten into an ice-cream puddle. 

He plunged down into the driver’s seat, his chest feeling lighter when his eyes hit the bloody red ocean. The song that started to play had been chosen by him a while ago, when he’d made his decision that there was nothing left for him in this world, that there was no new adventure waiting for him after the last page in the album was turned. 

_ If I could save time in a bottle _

_ The first thing that I'd like to do _

_ Is to save every day _

_ 'Til eternity passes away _

_ Just to spend them with you _

He saw Neil smiling at him, his soft lips brushing his because eventually he’d given in to dancing to this stupid song that said everything Andrew had ever felt for Neil Josten. He saw them swaying in the gazebo and looked into these blue, blue, blue eyes and when he looked out onto the water he didn’t see the ocean but Neil, only Neil, always Neil.

_ If I could make days last forever _

_ If words could make wishes come true _

_ I'd save every day like a treasure and then, _

_ Again, I would spend them with you _

He buckled up and started the engine, trying to push away the fear of falling, the only feeling he could still feel and yet a feeling that wasn’t enough to make him stay. He’d gone long ago.

_ But there never seems to be enough time _

_ To do the things you want to do _

_ Once you find them _

_ I've looked around enough to know _

_ That you're the one I want to go _

_ Through time with _

As his feet finally found the gas pedal, he felt his heart racing in his chest. All he could do was fix his eyes onto the water beneath him, feeling Neil’s urn by his side. He didn’t believe in afterlife. He just knew that this wasn’t a life he could live any longer. He wasn’t living anymore anyway; he was existing. He pushed the pedal down, the tires squealing at the kick-start. 

_ If I had a box just for wishes _

_ And dreams that had never come true _

_ The box would be empty _

_ Except for the memory _

_ Of how they were answered by you _

The fall didn’t take long and when the car hit the water, he felt his lungs open up, giving away the breath he had held. Four times, he thought as the water washed the tears from his cheeks and all he saw was blue, blue, blue but he didn’t see water, water, water - he saw Neil, Neil, Neil and that was all that mattered when all the blue turned into darkness.

 

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING: If you feel suicidal, please seek professional help or call one of the many Suicide Prevention Hotlines in your country!


End file.
